


Pack Bond

by catstronaut



Series: Running With Our Wolf [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon-Typical Self Mutilation (Digging out Worms™), Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Gen, Hunt Avatar Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jon has a GUN, but he's also the Eye's like in canon bc i like my spooky all seeing man, not that he gets to use it lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catstronaut/pseuds/catstronaut
Summary: Jonathan Sims is, quite honestly, the weirdest Head Archivist they've had, and that's saying a lot.
Series: Running With Our Wolf [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862194
Comments: 17
Kudos: 174





	Pack Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Depending on the response this gets, it may get multiple chapters! i know i sure loved writing this!
> 
> also i am an American writer so that's why this may sound odd -
> 
> *minor edits to descriptions!

To start, there has always been something weird about Jonathan Sims from the moment he was hired as head archivist.

Maybe it was how Elias hired him off the street for a reason only he knew. How he seemed to take one Look at this short, scrawny man and decided that he wanted that one, and not Sasha, who would have been a better choice.

Maybe it was how Jon held himself, as if he were preparing to chase after someone - or something. How his eyes were cold and seemed to see everything and his teeth held a disconcerting sharpness.

Maybe it was how he made each of his assistants feel as if they were being hunted.

Granted, the man never did anything to them; he would glare and he would snap but he would never get close enough to harm any of them. He stayed several feet away from them at all times, and they halfway passed it off as him being a germophobe, but they knew better.

The first time he'd gotten closer than that to any of them was when Martin came running in after his encounter with Jane Prentiss.

It certainly seemed to surprise Sasha and Tim when they came in the next day to find Martin and Jon standing side by side in the break room, nearly touching as they discussed what they would be doing about Martin's living situation.

"You certainly can't go back to your flat," Jon almost growled, "I can clean a storage room out for you, or you can ask Sasha or Tim if they have extra room. I would offer for you to stay with me, but I simply don't have room for another person."

Martin shook his head "No, no, I'll clear the storage room if you're truly alright with it - do we happen to have a cot I could use?" Nodding, Jon turned to walk out and suddenly noticed the two others. His expression shifted, becoming cold once more as he stopped, waiting for them to move.

Sasha stepped to the side and Tim hesitated, giving a lopsided grin. "What, Martin isn't contagious but we are?" He joked, but stepped out of the way. Jon's scowl seemed to deepen, but scooted past them anyway.

Both assistants felt a shiver run down their spines when the archivist spoke, catching sight of sharp teeth. "He is simply less nosy than some of you."

...

Sasha and Tim rounded on Martin as soon as Jon had entered his office, startling the red-head something fierce. "What did you do to make him so - so -" Tim started, waving his hands as he tried to come up with the word he wanted. "Approachable? Vaguely caring? Not a _total_ asshole?" Sasha supplied, and Tim let out a short noise of agreement.

"Those! Those to you! How did you tame the beast?" He asked, leaning close to Martin's face, making the latter try to lean away.

"He isn't all that bad, really! He's just not very in tune with his emotions!" Martin said quickly, trying to get his personal space back, but Tim wasn't having it.

Pointing his finger in Martin's face the way you would scold a dog, he was interrupted by a throat clearing in the doorway. All three slowly turned to see who it was, cringing at the sight of Elias standing there, arms crossed. "This certainly doesn't look like you're doing work, does it?"

Martin started stuttering apologies, slipping away from Tim, who looked physically pained at not being able to roll his eyes at the man. Sasha, however, handled it with grace. "Apologies, we were just getting ready to fix our drinks before getting to work; Tim and Martin were having a friendly spat, so once we get our tea and coffee, we'll get started."

The older man stared at them for a few moments longer before nodding. "Best get to it, then." He called over his shoulder as he made his way to Jon's office, not bothering to knock before walking in.

All three shared a look, promising that this wasn't over, and busied themselves with making their respective drinks, Martin making a tea for Jon as well.

Sitting his mug on his desk, he carefully made his way to his destination, and Elias' voice reached through the door before he could knock. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't claim anyone for your pack, _Jonathan_?"

What sounded like a growl sounded through, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. "And I thought _you_ agreed that this would be a safe place! The Hive isn't safe, _Bouchard_!"

It wasn't like he meant to overhear! He just... Heard it. That doesn't mean he's any less confused about what in the devil it meant, but he wasn't going to stick around.

Knocking quickly, he gave the two men - who immediately became quiet upon his entry - friendly greetings, setting the mug down. Jon gave a nod, but his eyes (were they golden?) never strayed from Elias, a hint of a snarl upon his lips.

Martin left as soon as he could, and elected to not get in the middle of whatever that was ever again if he could help it.

...

They were trapped. In one of the office rooms. With creepy ass worms trying to eat them alive.

And now Jon could feel the Hunt shifting, clawing, trying to rip itself free, rip into the creature terrorizing them. But he _couldn't_. He couldn't, he wouldn't, not with his pack so near - he couldn't risk them getting caught in the crossfire.

Barely suppressing a snarl as he took a pocket knife ("Why do you keep so many weapons in here? Is that even _allowed_? Does Elias know?") to his hands, his legs, his arms, digging the Corruption from his skin as Martin and Sasha stared at him in horror - and a little awe - while he never made a sound.

"I'm going to rip that worm wretch limb from _limb_ and then tear the eyes right out of Bouchard's _head_ -" Jon growled lowly, slicing his own flesh and pulling the worms out, rage building and the blood calling more, more, more -

"There's Tim!"

\- and the blood froze as he felt something in him shift. "Get the Co2," Jon snarled, "I'm getting him."

Ignoring their panicked yells and frantic fumblings for the canisters, he closed his pocket knife and slipped into his pocket in one fluid motion. Quickly he unholstered the pistol he kept on him at all times (much to Elias' ire, might I add, but Jon simply _did not care_ ), giving one look to his assistants.

With glowing golden eyes and a tense figure, the Archivist gave a (was it a tad bit nervous, or was Martin imagining it?) sharp-tooth grin and seeing that they were ready, pulled the door open and sprinted out, slamming it as quickly as he could behind him. He ignored the disgusting satisfaction he got from smashing Prentiss' worms underfoot, ignored the feeling of them burrowing, ignored everything except getting to Tim now.

Catching sight of the room Tim had entered, he saw Prentiss and the Hunt _won_.

Sick growling and the sounds of shifting filled the air and she noticed. She noticed and she was afraid, afraid of the creature the Archivist was not supposed to be, afraid of what she knew was coming.

The Hunt would _not_ allow its prey to escape.

...

In his defense, Tim hadn't meant to cause all hell to break loose. Or contribute to it.

He was just playing around with the tape recorder and then he heard... Something. Something inhuman. Something that made each and every hair on his body stand on end.

Slowly turning, he saw Jane Prentiss, but she was less of a concern than the giant, multi-eyed, growling wolf _thing_ that came slamming into the room, busting through the door with ease. Tim barely moved out of the way in time, the creature going for Prentiss.

It looked familiar, if in an unfamiliar way.

An unearthly shriek filled the air as Prentiss commanded her worms to attack the beast, but it paid no mind as it bared long, vicious fangs. Without warning, it lunged, mouth closing fully around her throat and ripped, rotten blood and worms scattering the room before she could do much else.

The beast dropped the bits of Prentiss from its mouth and stood still for a moment before turning it's gaze upon Tim.

Panic seized him and he frantically looked around, spotting the pistol Jon would usually carry a ways down the hall, and he sprinted to get it. The creature walked slowly after him, seeming to be confused by his reaction.

Tim was gently cursing Jon for never teaching him how to use it despite asking oh so politely so many times, so he pointed it at the thing, hoped it was loaded, and tried to aim.

"Don't - don't come any closer!" He shouted, a light shake going through his body. To it's credit, it did stop for a moment. At least until it's eyes ( _too many, way too many-_ ) locked on him.

No, no, it wasn't locked on _him_.

Chancing a glance backward, panic pulsed through him as he saw what looked like a living mannequin with nightmarish features, what the hell -

Switching targets, he heard heavy pawsteps coming from where he had been facing and pulled the trigger at the mannequin monster.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened, and he had monsters coming from both ends.

As he was accepting that _oh, he was going to die here and now with a creepy life size doll monster grabbing at him_ , the sound of the wolf thing jumping caught his attention and, looking up, it cleared him with ease, slamming with all it's weight into the other thing, the head coming off and rolling down the hallway from the force of it.

...

The Hunt did not like these beings coming for its Pack.

They belong to it. They do not belong to the other fears.

They do not get to tear them away from it, not without a fight.

The Corruption will not get away with causing harm to its people. The Corruption will not get away with causing harm to its Eye.

The Corruption will not get away, not in one piece.

And so it tore its avatar from its grasp, vengeance proven in the tar-like liquid that dripped from its lips.

Wishing to make sure its Pack is safe, it approached the Loud one. The Loud one was scared. Scared of it? Why was Pack afraid of the Hunt? The Hunt wishes only safety for Loud one. For Soft one. For Smart one.

Safety for its Eye's Pack. For the Hunt's Pack. For Their Pack.

For They are one until They are not.

They listen to Loud one as he shouts, but They see the Stranger creeping, coming, Taking. They will not allow it. They will protect their Pack.

They ran, They leaped, They will destroy that of which is trying to harm, to take.

Their Eye _Saw_.

...

Sasha and Martin were equal parts relieved and beyond worried when the worms all seemed to just... Die.

On one hand, they wouldn't have to worry about being bitten and burrowed in!

On the other, it meant Jon did something and that something probably ended very, _very_ badly if how Jon had been acting was any indicator.

Cautiously leaving the office, they immediately heard snarling and static from a few hallways down, and their stomachs sank. They hurried that way, careful not to slip on worm carcasses and careful not to run face-first into any monsters.

Or, well. They tried, at least.

Rounding the corner, they nearly ran straight into a huge eye-wolf-creature, a singular toxic green eye open on its forehead as the - Jesus, is that a horror movie mannequin - thing once struggling in vain to get away, seemed to lose all life to it.

The green eye shut and too many glowing golden ones opened in its place, locking onto the two newcomers, and they were ready to bolt as it sat down, tail wagging lazily.

Martin tore his eyes from the thing when he saw Tim, shaken and holding Jon's gun, but ultimately unharmed.

Wait.

"... Jon, is that you?" Martin asked slowly, and the thing squinted its eyes as its tail picked up speed.

Looking to Tim and Sasha for confirmation that the thing just did that, they looked as dumbfounded as he felt. At least he wasn't alone in his confusion.

**Author's Note:**

> Hmu on my insta @supurrnovae my dudes!


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